The Detective's Helpers
by Lemon Zinger
Summary: Title may change. 221B's centering on the irregulars. Warning: comedy will ensue, as it is bound to when you stick Holmes, Watson, and a bunch of kids together. I mean common, what do you expect? Latest update: Two new irregulars have a dark secret...
1. Chapter 1

**A 221B series surrounding the Irregulars. Alfie was borrowed with KCS's permission, Bernard is my own creation. Enjoy! **

We were coming home from a case one evening when a downpour struck. Two of the irregulars were at our heels so we decided to invite them in for a minute to let them warm up and wait for the rain to pass.

It's easy to forget that their only children, after all most of them work and take care of themselves or younger children on a daily basis. As one of them, Alfie, snuggled against me though I realized they could use the comfort of a fatherly figure, and didn't protest.

Holmes sent me teasing looks as he sat at the table. When Mrs. Hudson delievered the tea tray with some biscuits I smiled when the other little one, Bernie, asked Holmes to butter his muffin for him. Bernie watched Holmes carefully, informing him that he had missed a spot. Finally satisfied, he started munching.

"Don't you want one Alfie?" I asked.

"No." He said. "Doctor, you're smart, right?"

"Well, yes I suppose." I replied. I heard Holmes's short laugh become masked with a cough and sent a glare in his direction.

"Can I ask you a question?" Alfie asked.

"Sure Alfie, go ahead." I said, wondering what was on his mind.

Holmes finally broke into a fit of laughter when the irregular asked, "Why do we 'ave belly buttons?"


	2. Chapter 2

I was grateful for Watson's kindness towards the irregulars, especially the one he diagnosed with a mild bout of pneumonia, currently residing on our sofa until Watson decided he could leave. It was kind of him, considering what a big help the irregulars were to me on several occasions.

The one that Watson was treating was actually an orphan, making a living off of the wages I paid him. Wiggins helped looked after the few orphans in the irregulars, seeing to it they were safe and fed.

I sat watching the boy with unease as my companion prepared to go visit another patient. This would mean that I would be left with the child.

I had tried pleading with Watson all evening to stay, to no success.

"Don't worry Holmes, he should be asleep most of the evening. Just check on him occassionally." Watson instructed. He made it sound so simple, but I remembered snipets from my own childhood and inwardly cringed.  
"How long will you be out?" I asked

"About an hour." He said, leaving to go down the steps. "Maybe overnight if necessary." He added as he descended.

I was so in shock that I missed the teasing in his tone. I raced to the door to the sitting room and called after him, "Watson I'm not a babysitter!"


	3. Chapter 3

I was sitting up late one rainy evening after returning from my rounds and finding Holmes missing. I flipped through the evening paper, noting some articles that dealt with recent crimes and wondering if Holmes was investigating any of those.  
I suddenly heard commotion come from downstairs. The front door was opened and I rose, rushing to the top of the stairs.  
"Holmes?" I called. He appeared, dripping wet and carrying a sobbing child. As he marched up the steps, I hurried to fetch my medical bag.  
"What happened?" I asked Holmes, who was setting the child, whom I recognized as Bernie, down of the settee.  
"He fell and landed heavily on his right arm." Holmes explained. I saw him cover Bernie with a blanket and toss his sandy-colored hair kindly.  
"Can I see your arm Bernie?" I asked.  
Bernie shrank back a little and I understood his fear. A year ago an irregular had dislocated his shoulder and wasted no time in telling everyone how painful it had been to fix.  
"Let the doctor see it Bernie." Holmes admonished gently. Mrs. Hudson appeared bearing a tray of tea and a few goodies. I let Bernie nibble a muffin while I looked at his arm. After checking it over I smiled.  
"You can relax Bernie, it's not broken, just badly bruised." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Barefoot**

When Holmes asked me to accompany him on a small 'excursion,' Even though it was a blustery winter day I joined him, wondering if he was on a case. We strolled down to a clothing store a few blocks away and he smiled kindly at the clerk, who seemed to know him.

"Got them all now, Mr. Holmes." The clerk greeted. "Wait a moment."

"I thought you didn't shop for Christmas?" I asked teasingly.

"I am not. I'm shopping for the season." Holmes said.

"For who?" I asked. "You wouldn't bring me if you were shopping for me. Mrs. Hudson?" I guessed.

"No."

"Your brother then?"

"No." He said, smiling and looking out of the corner of his eye.

"Who?" I asked, just as the clerk returned.

"Here they are Mr. Holmes." The clerk said, returning with three large bags. Inside were many smaller packages.

"Can you take that one? There's a good fellow." Holmes said.

It was only a week later when he invited the Irregulars over, that I figured out what the mysterious packages were. I realized that Holmes wasn't completely unsympathetic as he gave each of the Irregulars shoes.

When I gave him a questioning look over one of the little one's heads he explained that he did it because of Mrs. Hudson complaining about them going barefoot.

**More of a holiday fic, but I couldn't wait. Besides, I'm sure everyones ready to murder me for not updating MITM. In my defense, the flashdrive it is typed on went missing. I should be back to normal now though!**

**Thank you Mam'zelleCombeferre for catching my typo and switching Mrs. Hudson's gender. Fixed now!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Birthday**

The leader of the irregulars was Wiggins. Not because of his age, though he was one of the oldest, or his wits, though he was particularly clever. He was the one who reported directly to Holmes, but even this special attention didn't earn him the respect of the irregulars.

What earned him their respect was his compassion and problem-solving skills. He had grand leadership qualities, and I became quite glad that the other irregulars had him to look up to. He would go far in life, I could foresee it. It was amazing that people with nothing had better qualities then some of the richest in the of the situation or those involved, Wiggins would try to make everyone happy- or at least satisfied.

I underestimated the depths of the irregular's loyalty. Wiggins sheepishly told them his birthday was approaching and in secret they asked Holmes to keep their wages from a case and go buy Wiggins something special.

Their kindness and generosity touched me, so I told them to keep part of their wages and Holmes and I would cover the rest of their expenses. Holmes, surprisingly, agreed not only to the plan, but also to go beyond a present.

After we surprised Wiggins one evening with a party he said that it would forever be his favorite birthday.

**I need ideas for this! I don't care if you give me a list of b-words to try or prompts, but please give me ideas! **


	6. Chapter 6

They were looking up at him, some with a shyness and others with anger. It was hard for them, most two or three years older than when they had seen him last. That was a long time for a child, and I could easily read the uncertainty in their eyes.

They all were growing up, no longer the little boys Holmes had employed to help us locate Johnathon Hope. I'd helped them whenever I could, but Wiggins refused to allow them to rely on me, so they had been forced to find odd jobs and occasionally beg to earn their meals.

Well, Holmes had brought this on himself, I thought. I could forgive him, I was just glad to have him back, but would the children understand? They were young and many had been devastated when Holmes had 'died.'

"Boys, I am sorry." Holmes added to the story about his return.

"Holmes?"

"Yes Wiggins?"

"Promise you'll never do that again?" Wiggins voice was solemn and his face dead-pan.

"I promise." Holmes said. It was one of those rare moments were Holmes' emotions were very clear.

"Then I forgive you." Wiggins said. He led by example, going over to hug the normally withdrawn detective. The others rushed forward to hug him too, and Holmes found himself smothered by a swarm of boys.


	7. Chapter 7

**Prompt: A 221B containing the words rephrased, unclothed, and bedraggled and it must include a dog. - From Demon Shuriken.**

It was during a pleasant walk home Holmes suddenly grabbed my sleeve and pointed. Five older boys were chasing Bernard, who was unclothed, Alfred, and a scruffy dog.

I called to the boys and they changed their paths to intersect with ours. They ran past Holmes and when the older boys followed, he used his walking stick to force them back. The boys decided it was best to flee the furious looking detective. I knelt to inspect the two irregulars.

"What happened?" I asked.

Bernard mumbled something incoherent.

"Those boys were pickin' on us. All we wanted to do was save the dog, but they made Bernie give up 'is cloths and then chased us." Alfred said.

"They chased us cause _you _called them bedraggled mama's brats." Bernard rephrased, looking angrily at Alfie.

I held up my hand to forestall any further explanation and lent Bernard my jacket so he would not have to walk naked. We took them back home and let them stay until Bernard's mother could bring him a change of cloths.

They argued over what they would name the dog while they ate a small lunch Mrs. Hudson had prepared.

"The dog will be named Trouble, since that's what he's brought you." Holmes suddenly snapped.

The boys found that name to their liking, and Trouble he became.


	8. Chapter 8

I've heard the saying about children growing up fast many times. I was not quite prepared for just how fast it happened. One day Wiggins was a child helping me on cases and very quickly he became a man, employed and married.

I had retired to Sussex and Watson was there when we recieved a visitor. I recognized Wiggins as he turned to help his wife out of their ride. She was carrying a small bundle that surprised even me. Wiggins was a father. Not only that, but the child had been named after Watson and I.

Following that, we tried to get together at least twice a year, though Watson would have prefered more. He loved watching the little boy grow up, and I saw him looking at the child longingly. Watson had wanted children of his own, but after Mary's death, he gave up on that. I didn't know how to comfort him. Wiggins, in an effort to comfort him, told him that he had always thought of us as a father to him and the other irregulars. That cheered Watson somewhat, and I was thankful.

One winter day I refused to let Wiggins leave in the evening due to a blizzard. We managed to get everyone sleeping places and Watson helped Wiggins put little John Sherlock to bed.

_TBC..._

**Sherlock John just didn't sound right. **


	9. Chapter 9

Of couse, the little five year-old did not want to sleep. He thought it was great fun to be staying over at my house, and, try as they might, Watson and Wiggins could not persuade, threaten, or force the child to stay in bed and sleep. Wiggins was becoming exhausted and I could sense his frustration. Watson decided to take over.

He grabbed one of the stories he had published with accounts of our adventures. He choose the first case we'd undertaken together. He told the story with lots of detail and even tried to mimic my voice. I was listening from the doorway, watching as young John's eyes filled with wonder as Watson told him about meeting me and the writing on the wall and the murder. It was not a normal bedtime story, but neither Wiggins nor his wife seemed to mind. We had all read it before, with the exception of the boy, but somehow that night Watson captured our complete attention as he told the story out loud.

Watson concluded and the boy was beginning to nod off. We turned to leave quietly when I heard him call for Watson. I turned to see Watson getting a big hug from the sleepy child.

I noticed the tears in Watson's eyes as the child whispered. "You're the best."

**MrsPencil gave me the idea to write a really long story and keep it going by passing it off to my kids and so on. Well, I don't think I could start something like that, but this idea came to me because of that. **


	10. Chapter 10

We had never intended for the Irregulars to _ever_ wind up in the middle of a case. They were helpful investigators, but we would never send them into something too dangerous.

But now, a man who had already murdered four people was holding a knife to Wiggins' throat, backing away from Holmes and I.

"You try anything and he dies!" The man shouted. It was only bad luck that Wiggins, who had been looking for a clue for Holmes, had wound up in the same place we had and the murderer had taken full advantage of the presence of a child.

"Let him go, he is not involved!" Holmes said, looking angry that Wiggins was being threatened and scared for the boy's life.

Wiggins didn't look too scared. He was handling it all very well. He wasn't crying or doing anything to cause the knife to get closer to his throat.

In fact, it looked like the man's grip on Wiggins was loosening. He was growing confident that he would escape, and he didn't expect Wiggins to try anything. Suddenly Wiggins bit the man's hand and struggled free, running towards us.

I saw the man pull a gun out and prepare to fire. I had already whisked out my own revolver and as we fired simultaneously there was a loud bang.

**Had to add in a bit of danger. Obviously there will be a sequel... sometime. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: When I said 'sometime' I swear I did not have a month in mind.**

I dared to look around when the noise had subsided. Wiggins had thrown himself to the ground and was scrambling forward. Holmes when to meet him halfway and helped the boy up. Both of them looked perfectly fine, though Holmes insisted on checking Wiggins.

I felt fine as well, and I wondered if for once Holmes and I would both finish a case uninjured. I looked to the villain, wondering if my shot had made it home.

He was in the process of fleeing, and I noticed no blood. A smoldering object lying on the ground did catch my eye and I went over to it.

The two bullets had collided. They were now fused together in a circular shape.

"Wow, that must've been one shot in a million!" Wiggins said, coming up behind me. He sounded a little shaken. Indeed, I had never even considered the possibility of ever doing that, though during my time in Afghanistan someone found a pair of bullets like this. Holmes silently picked up the spectacular shot and pocketed it.

We got Wiggins home safely and returned home ourselves. Holmes still had the two bullets, and I didn't mind letting him keep them.

We never were the ones to net the murderer, but now, among Holmes' growing collection of souvenirs, there were two fused bullets.


	12. Chapter 12

It was the first time I went with Watson to visit Mary's final resting place. Normally, when he went out alone with that look on his face I let him go alone. Today, he had asked for my company. I wordlessly got my hat and umbrella, since it had been threatening to pour all morning.

We called a cab to take us to the cemetery, and soon the cadence of the horse's hooves on the pavement was joined by the sound of the rain as it began to fall steadily.

We reached the cemetery and I held the umbrella for the both of us, paying more attention to Watson than myself. We rounded a bend and I caught sight of three youth kneeling before a grave. At first, the sight didn't strike me as unnatural, but Watson stopped dead and gasped. They suddenly looked up and stood. I recognized Wiggins, Bernard, and Alfred. Wiggins put his arms around the younger two and they looked shyly up at Watson.

"We were just paying our respects sir." Wiggins said, nodding to Watson.

Watson smiled warmly and handed something to Wiggins. When the lad held out a hand, I saw my friend drop some coins there.

"Go, get warmed up and get something to eat. You are always welcomed to visit." Watson said benignly.


	13. Chapter 13

Watson had just finished seeing his last patient of the day when suddenly the door to his consulting room burst open and a blur of blue ran in and gave him a huge hug.

"Oof!" Watson exclaimed, feeling his breath knocked out of him.

"John!" Wiggins exclaimed, following his son into the room. "Go easy on poor Watson."

"Good to… see you Wiggins." Watson said, trying to stay balanced as a small boy clung to him, trying to connect his arms around his wait.

"I'm sorry if we're disturbing you." Wiggins said.

"Not at all." Watson said. "Just finishing up."

"Watson, dad got a job!" John called triumphantly. Watson looked at him with surprise and happiness. Wiggins had been looking for a job for several months, and his family needed the money.

"I did, it's just an entry-level clerk position, but it's something." Wiggins said.

"That's wonderful! We should celebrate." Watson said.

"Let's go out for dinner!" John said, bouncing on his toes.

"We'll have to invite Holmes." Watson said.  
"Of course, let's go round and fetch him." Wiggins said.

"Yay!" Cried John, running into the street. Watson and Wiggins followed at a more reasonable pace, but then they realized John was headed directly in front of a cab.

"No!" Wiggin's yelled loudly. "John!"

Watson and Wiggins both forgot to breathe.

* * *

_Debating between epic rescue or tragic death..._


	14. Chapter 14

The rain was pounding down now and I looked back to see the quiet trio looking at me. "I suppose you'll have to wait now." I commented.

"Why?" Blue asked. Blue had another name, but because of his intense blue eyes he was called Blue. "Its just rain." He was about ten, and his long choppy hair was beginning to cover his eyes.

"You shouldn't be out in that downpour." I replied.

"Why not mister Holmes?" Tommy, a small lad of about five and Blue's brother. Wiggins was taking them under his wing as trainees.

"Because you might catch a cold." I answered.

"I slept out in the rain." Tommy said.

My eyes got wide and I glanced up at Watson who was behind the boys by the desk. He was gaping and had a sad expression on his face.

"Whatever do you mean Tommy?" Watson asked.

Blue looked appalled. "I - Its nothing sir."

"Blue where do you live?" I asked, sitting beside him.

He looked down at the floor. Tommy piped up again. "Blue made us a home in the alley! He gave me the best box to sleep in too."

"Tommy..." Blue hissed, trying to be brave.

"Blue what happened?" Watson asked.

The boy began to cry. "We had to leave... I couldn't let him hurt my brother."


	15. Chapter 15

"No I don't!" I argued bitterly. We both had completely lost our tempers due to fatigue.

"You don't? You mother me at every turn!" Holmes retorted. "Always standing over my shoulder and ordering me around!"

"I do it for your own good since you apparently can't do it for yourself!"

"I have my cases!"

"Cases aren't food and sleep!"

"As good as!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Boys!" The sitting room was thrown open loudly and we both jumped at the sight of Wiggins standing there looking grumpy. "You are both acting like children! Poor Mrs. Hudson can't even think with all this racket, and half of London knows there is a war going on in here! Now get to your rooms!" He ordered.

Embarrassed and slightly conceited, we both opened our mouths to protest being sent to our rooms by a child.  
"Now! Or I'll have you arrested for disturbing the peace!" Wiggins said. Almost fourteen, he was getting rather bold.

We both fled to our separate quarters and Mrs. Hudson eventually climbed the stairs to see Wiggins sitting with an arrogant smirk on his face. "And that, Mrs. Hudson, is how you handle them."

"Well, I have a reward for your bravery." She said, leaving for a moment.

He quickly devoured the plate of cookies Mrs. Hudson brought.


End file.
